Page 51 of The Boss I Can't Stand
Because watching him jump from this person to Mr. Bigshot with his fake smile and too-loud laugh made my stomach turn. The world had no idea that Mr. Bigshot was actually this thoughtful man who insisted on making sure I had my favorite muffins in the mornings and who waited around the costume shop at the end of the day just to give me a lift home.
Finn was totally convinced no one would ever wantthatguy. Even though I liked that guy so much better.
The teasing grump who walked around our house?—
No, not our house.Hishouse. I turned around to find Finn standing there holding my bag and his files in one hand, texting with the other.Not ours, I told myself again. I couldn’t forget that. We were puttingon an act for the rest of the world. I wasn’t supposed to be the one foolish enough to believe it was real.
“The Veritique,” Finn reminded me as I stepped out of his car outside the production building.
Right, I thought, reaching into the pocket of my bag. I found the ring and slipped it on. I’d been leaving the ring off when we were alone together to try to keep the lines clear for myself.
The ring was for the cameras only.
For the public.
But the truth was, it was getting harder and harder to put it back on. To feel that weight on my finger, reminding me this was all fake.
Finn walked around the front of the car. I curled my hand by my side and hiked my bag up my shoulder. “The stone is huge,” I joked. “I’m always worried it’ll get snagged on something in the shop.”
His jaw tensed. “I was told the emeralds had to be of a certain size in order to show the true depth of their—” His words broke off. “Try not to sew it into a costume.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said, forcing a smile despite my confusion. “See you later?”
He nodded and disappeared through the doors, taking some of the tension with him.
I stared down at the ring again. Wasn’t this supposed to be a family heirloom? That’s what he’d said to me that first night. So why had it just sounded like he’d designed it himself?
I shook off that thought as my phone buzzed with a text from Paisley. There was definitely something Finnwasn’tsaying about the ring, but that would have to wait.
By the time I reached the costume shop, I was fully in costume mode. Paisley and Trin were steaming the delicate fabric of Shaw’s dress for the party sequence set to be filmed this week while Carter was letting out the pants on a couple of the background costumes since there’d been last-minute actor changes.
“What d’you think?” Paisley asked as she spotted me.
“I think we did gorgeous work,” I said, walking around the mannequin to make sure the dress was perfect from every angle. It really was stunning—crafted from a single bolt of authentic vintage fabric Paisley had been able to scrounge up from God-knew-where.
We were all a little afraid to breathe on it too hard for fear of damaging it, but it was just too perfectnotto use. Shaw was going to dazzle in this dress. “Get this crease here.” I checked the time on my phone. “I have to pop out for a meeting with Cathleen and X, but Shaw should be here in ten minutes. Can you help her into the costume?”
Paisley nodded.
“Show her the clasp so she can practice with it a few times for the scene where she changes after the party,” I said.
“You’ll be on set for adjustments?” Paisley wondered.
“Yeah, I’ll head over right after the meeting.” The fabric was fragile, and there was no way I was letting that dress out of my sight while it was on set. “Carter, X needs two more extras dressed for the party sequence. Can you pull two more suits?”
“Color preference?” he asked, getting up from the industrial sewing machine to dig around the costume racks.
“Go with a navy and a gray. I’ll see you guys later. Message me if you need me.” With that, I dropped my bag in my office, grabbed my coffee, and headed for the conference room. I arrived, noting that Cathleen and X were already mid-discussion, heads bent close as they looked over some stills from the set.
“I think the bobbed hair is important,” Cathleen said. “The short haircuts were part of that whole liberation?—”
“—rejecting old Victorian standards. Yes, yes, you keep saying that.” X rubbed at his chin, but he didn’t seem annoyed, more amused, like he was teasing Cathleen a little, sharing an inside joke.
I’d noticed the vibe between the two of them softening in the time since that disastrous first meeting. Oh, they still bickered, but they were more playful about it than actually angry.
Cathleen dropped her hands to her hips, giving him an exasperated look that didn’t hide the way her eyes were twinkling. “I keep saying that because I’m waiting for it to stick.”
X glanced at her, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk. “Maybe we should just stick more hats on them.”
